Matchmaker Kenny
by Predominantly Normal
Summary: After a not-so-tragic fight between South Park's most obsessed over couples, Kenny has to pull together all his knowledge to get them back together. Or face the fury of the Fangirls. He knows he has to succeed; the fate of Style and Creek rests in his hands. Crack-ish!
1. It All Happened At Lunch

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

_Author's Notes:_

_-Just some Crack story to have fun with. _

_-First time using the F word in a story. I don't know, that felt noteworthy. _

_-Review! The fate of Style and Creek depend on it!_

* * *

A certain herd of tenth-graders sat around the lunch table, hardly eating and instead using up their valuable free-time for something more important. That something would most obviously be arguing about who out of all of them had the best first kiss. I mean, what else would tenth-graders talk about? Videogames? No, they were way to sophisticated and mature for that. The insults had even escalated from 'Fat-ass' to 'Obese-ass'. At the table, Kyle and Cartman were bickering over whether the best first kiss was your last Hanukkah present, or over a bag of cheesy poofs.

"Your kiss was predictable!" Cartman argued.

"At least it was sentimental!" Kyle shot back.

"Ay! Cheesy poofs are sentimental!" Cartman yelled.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Liar liar, pants on fire!"

"No, my pants are fire proofed."

"Obese-ass!"

"Jew!"

... Okay, so maybe they weren't THAT grown-up yet. Stan and Kenny sighed. It seemed like Kyle and Cartman just fought to fight. Both of them had to side with Kyle, though. Stan had been Kyle's first, (and by God if the _great_ and _good-looking_ Stan Marsh was EVER a bad kisser.) and Kenny had taken the picture and set it up himself. During the whole thing, however, he kept muttering something about 'Style' and 'Fangirls'. Whatever that meant.

"I bet you didn't even have a first kiss." Kyle snipped angrily.

"I did so!" Cartman protested.

"With who?" Kyle smirked. Set point and match for one, Kyle Broflovski.

"Some super hot blonde chick!" Cartman smirked.

"What was her name?" Stan asked, vaguely interested. He would have to interject sometime, unless he wanted Kyle to scold his ass when they were supposed to watch movies.

"B-Bridget!" Cartman said thoughtfully. "Yeah, Bridget was her name!"

"Funny." Kenny said. "Sounds almost like you were about to say, 'Butters'." His tone was low and dark.

"What? That little faggot? All yours, Kenny." Cartman snorted in mock-disgust.

"Better be." Kenny muttered.

"Actually, your first kiss was with Stan's ex, Wendy! Yeah, I remember now!" Kyle yipped.

Cartman blushed a deep red.

"Yeah, she's _some_ hot blonde." Kyle snickered.

"Shut the hell up, Jew rat! 'Least I kissed a chick!" Cartman shot at his Jew nemesis.

"I kissed BeBe." Kyle pointed out.

"That doesn't count if you didn't switch saliva!" Cartman objected.

"Then neither does yours!"

"Ay! I did switch saliva over Cheesy Poofs!"

"You probably just wanted the taste of the processed cheese in your fat mouth!" Kyle barked.

"_SO_?!"

"What are you fags talking about." A nasally voice asked.

"Okay, Craig!" Kyle grabbed onto Craig's hoodie and dragged him down. When Craig didn't immediately start beating Kyle to a Jewish pulp, his gang sat down around the table as well. "Would the best first kiss be over a Cheesy Poof, or for your last Hanukkah present?"

Craig thoughtfully tapped his finger to his chin. Of course, he was tapping his middle finger instead of his index. Craig lowered his eyes and said flatly, "Over a Cheesy Poof, duh. If it was a present that would be to predictable."

"Yes! And yet again, good wins over evil!" Cartman sniggered.

"What do you know, Craig!" Kyle said sharply, crossing his arms and pouting.

"Actually." Craig began. "It doesn't matter who had the best first kiss, but who had the best kiss overall." Token and Clyde agreed, nodding their heads. Tweek showed his agreement by twitching and taking a hurried sip of his coffee.

Token smiled in memories, "Nichole was always really good at that kind of stuff. Wendy was a bitch though. '_No kissing until we've dated for one whole month_!'" He mocked Wendy's voice.

"And Nichole also dumped your ass for the next rich black asshole on the block." Craig deadpanned. Token frowned and scowled. Point five seconds later, he was flipped off.

"I don't think you've ever even dated a chick, Craig!" Token shot in response.

"Have too." Craig shrugged, "I dated that one chick, Red."

"That was the third grade, genius." Clyde argued.

Kenny shrugged. "None of your stupid 'girls' even edge near my little Butters." He said. "I mean, I made out with BeBe, and Wendy, and Millie, and Red, and Lola, and-"

"Braggart." Kyle scoffed indignantly.

"Fine, fine! But none of them make those cute little puppy whimpers like Butters does. Butters is just... _Butters_." Kenny explained motioning with his hands.

"Amen to that." Craig agreed blankly. "Not with Butters though. He'd get on my nerves."

"And Twitch here doesn't?" Stan interjected.

"There is a great difference between annoying and fascinating." Craig flipped Stan off subconsciously. "It's Tweek, by the way."

Stan rolled his eyes. He didn't get how someone could stand Tweek, nonetheless make LIP contact with the kid. Tweek would actually probably freak out.

"Oh man!" Tweek said, as if on cue. His cheeks were red and he slunk down in his seat, as if trying to become invisible.

"Don't worry Tweeky. I won't go into our _super-awesome_ make out sessions." Craig smirked, trying to milk out a good response.

"Craig!" Tweek pouted, face flushing even deeper.

"Well, best friend kisses are even cooler!" Stan saved Tweek, merely because he imagined if that kid's face got any redder, he'd get a nose bleed and '_all the blood, oh Jesus!' _

"We're best friends." Craig wrapped an arm around Tweek.

"Well... We're SUPER best friends!" Stan did the same, but around Kyle.

Kyle rolled his eyes. Stan and Craig were just like him and Cartman. Rivals. If Craig wanted to do something, Stan just HAD to outdo him. And vice versa. The only thing keeping them close was Kyle and Tweek, who were at the very least, friends. Both were on the basket ball team, (Kyle due to skill and Tweek due to height) and Stan and Craig had to stay close if they didn't want to ruin one of their games.

"We were best friends even though we beat each other up!" Craig proclaimed.

"Us to!" Stan said with equal enthusiasm. "'Member the cave guy?"

"Tweek is a hot blonde!"

"C-Craig!"

"What?"

"Kyle is a fiery Jew!"

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

Stan looked at Kyle expectantly, as Craig did with Tweek. Kyle sighed. This was the part where he argued with Craig and waited for them to take over again so he could find Tweek, who was always hidden away in some corner.

"Sorry, Craig." Kyle shrugged. "Stan's sweeter. I couldn't imagine pressing my face to the likes of someone with a much charisma as a concrete slab."

Craig, much to his own distaste, said nothing and instead glared at Kyle with a stoically angry expression. Kyle crossed his arm and took a sideways glance at Tweek.

"I mean, you probably beat the guy's face up when you kiss him. Stan is gentle, just like one should. You probably just rough poor Tweek up." Kyle explained. Stan beamed at his praise and gave Kyle a peck on the cheek.

"I sorta like it." Tweek said, so softly that the bickering teenagers almost missed it.

"What?" Kyle looked at Tweek with a dumbfounded expression. Tweek was not one for any pain. The twitchy boy probably wouldn't touch blood with a seventy foot pole.

"Y-yeah..." Tweek managed, closing his eyes. When nobody objected he tentatively opened them again. "I l-like how h-he b-bites my l-lip and then he p-pulls my h-hair and-" Tweek was bright red now, and everyone was staring at him with interest. "And- and- uh... _GAH_!" Tweek shoved his face into Craig's jacket.

"See? we win." Craig announced proudly, petting Tweek's hair.

"That was gross. I'm seriously." Cartman retched, making the gag motion.

Cartman went on to make out with the air, hugging his hands around him so that they showed from the back. As he trailed both hands up and down, he made sickening kissing noises.

"Oh, Stan!" He mocked Kyle cheerfully. "You are SUCH a good kisser."

"I know, Jew." He lowered his voice to a lower pitch, adding a western drawl to it.

"Stan does not call me, 'Jew'!" Kyle screeched.

"Oh you're so SOFT and GENTLE." Cartman sniggered in Kyle's voice, which was actually much closer to a high pitched girl voice. "Thank you for my Hanukkah present!"

"Sure thing, my fiery Jew." Back to Stan's voice.

Stan glowed red at how awkwardly accurate Cartman's description was. He turned to Kenny, who was laughing. Punching him in the arm, Stan turned back to Cartman. The bastard was still turned around and making those disgusting kissing noises.

"Oh STAN." He mimicked, "Oh JEWBOY." Cartman proceeded to repeat the words, alternating between Stan and Kyle's imitations. Kyle face-tabled. Stan glowed even brighter and looked down at his food to avoid the gaze of Craig and company.

"I can imagine your first kiss." Kyle smirked. He turned around pretended to hand out money to an invisible person.

"Here, ho!" He said, adding an adequate amount of fat to his voice. "Here's fifty. Now kiss me so I can brag about it."

"Mm... No." He mimicked a girl's voice (which, since Kyle's voice was so high, wasn't much a task).

"Fine!" Back to Cartman's voice, "Here's one hundred."

"Mm... No."

"Okay! We can hug and say that I kissed you, kay?"

"Mm... Okay."

Kyle turned back around to see a fuming Eric Cartman glaring at him with a sufficient amount of fury to kill. Kyle shuddered but smirked. Stan was smiling at his antics and Kenny was laughing heavily. Even Craig's gang was mildly amused.

"Yeah, that's nice and all." Clyde murmured. "But me and BeBe had this amazing make-out session just three days ago."

"You just bought her shoes, didn't you?" Token deadpanned. Craig flipped Token off bluntly for stealing his smart-ass remark.

"... Yeah..." Clyde said, depressed. He took a bite out of his packed Doritos Locos Taco. Even that wasn't enough to cheer him up, though. "Haven't kissed once. 'Cept when I paid her in the fourth grade, courtesy of Butters."

"Come on, I'll buy you another taco after school." Token huffed, although there a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Really?" Clyde looked at Token with hopeful eyes.

"Really." Token agreed.

"Yay!"

Kenny smirked. "You guys are so cute." He gushed, effectively sounding like a Fangirl. "One more point for Tyde." Kenny yanked out a notepad and marked it cheerfully.

"What's in the notepad? You've been carrying it a lot since you became obsessed with the library computers." Kyle observed.

When Kenny didn't answer, Kyle took it upon himself to just snatch it. As he looked at the page, his eyes widened. On it was a chart of weird names and under them, tally marks. The weird thing was, though, that Kyle could recognize some of the names were their own, just squished together. He could easily tell that 'Kyman' was him and Cartman (ew) put together.

"What's this?" He demanded.

"Aww." Kenny pouted. "That was for a forum on FanFiction..." He dragged the notebook to the center of the table, pointing to the graph boxes.

"See here. These are your pairing names, and how many cute noteworthy moment points you have. The cuter, the more points per moment." Kenny pointed to it.

"Style, that's Stan and Kyle, is first." Kenny said proudly, pointing to the tallies that added up to forty-seven.

"And Creek, Craig and Tweek, is right behind you." Kenny moved his finger to a cluster of forty-five tallies.

"After that is Bunny, me and Butters." Kenny shifted to his own box, which had little carrots and bunnies around it (thanks to Butter's sticker collection). There were thirty-nine marks, each set of five with a little boat sticker.

"We're first!" Stan cheered. "Take THAT Craig!"

"Oh man!" Tweek screamed, clutching a fistful of blonde hair. "That m-means I'm a horrible boyfriend a-and pleasedonthatemeIloveyouCrai g!" Tweek sat down in a jittery mass on the table bench.

Craig knelt down and softly took Tweek's hands from his hair, passing him his coffee. Tweek took a hurried sip before calming down. He carefully kissed Tweek's forehead, smiling warmly (something that few people lived to see).

"You're a perfect boyfriend, Tweekers." He muttered. "Those two just have enough public affection to kill a unicorn."

"You d-don't hate me?" Tweek looked up hopefully.

"'Course not. I love you, remember?" Craig soothed.

"I love you t-too, Craig." Tweek gave Craig a peck on his nose.

"That's three points for Creek!" Kenny announced, doodling three more dashes in pen under 'Creek'.

"No! Kyle, we can't let Creek outshine us! Style, remember?" Stan gasped.

"It doesn't matter, Stan. Some stupid chart shouldn't mean anything." Kyle barked. "We don't need to be graded."

"Huh? But Craig-"

"Jesus Christ, Stan! You talk about Craig so much, it's like you guys are in a relationship or something! Let it go." Kyle growled, clenching his (crooked, braces-clad) teeth.

"We aren't in a freaking relationship!" Stan threw his hands in the air, pissed. "You can't ever trust me, can you?"

"Trust you? For our first month, you were still dating Wendy on the sidelines!" Kyle screeched.

"And how'd you retaliate, huh?" Stan's face was red, but more from a lack of oxygen screaming instead of embarrassment. "Having a fling with Tweek the twitch Tweak!"

Kenny's face paled as he shakily took his pen and crossed off one of the tallies. Cartman chewed his food thoughtfully, interested in their lover's quarrel. Token and Clyde simply rolled their eyes and returned to talking about whether Halo 3 or Halo 2 was a better game.

"You had a fling with the Broflovski kid?" Craig interrogated. His face was pulled into a weird scowl that looked more like he'd eaten a whole lemon than being legitimately angry.

"N-no! It was just o-one kiss!" Tweek whimpered and slunk down in his seat.

"One kiss, huh?" Craig screamed. "First a kiss and then next you guys are eating eachother's faces behind the football bleachers!" He barked.

"I hate f-football, Craig! You know th-that! I mean, w-what if the ball h-hits me and I go into a c-coma and f-forget everything? What if I c-catch the ball on accident and everyone tries t-to tackle m-me?" Tweek's lips trembled and his face was paler.

"Well, this escalated quickly." Token remarked.

"They _Whale_ make up." Clyde pointed out. "They were _Cod's_ will."

"Fish puns." Token rolled his eyes in amusement. "Sometimes it take me a second to _catch_ them."

"I know, but you get _hooked_ real easy." Clyde smirked.

"You should _dolphinatley_ get a life." Token said back.

"_Sea_ what I mean?"

"If you could even catch the damn ball!" Craig yelled. "I seen you at your games, Tweek, you're no MVP." Attention was brought back to the bickering boys bantering 'bout botched bromances' (try saying that five times fast).

"At l-least I get off my ass and d-do s-something!" Tweek argued back.

"What? Run around the court and scream, '_too much pressure_!' when they throw you the ball? Goddamn, Tweek, you're such a _freakshow_!"

"Lay off of Tweek!" Kyle ordered, stepping back from his fight with Stan.

"Oh, so are you running back to him now?" Stan said. "You just stepped on my heart, Kyle." He put a hand his chest. "My heart." He clutched it and winced. "Is crushed."

"You're melodramatic." Kyle huffed.

"Cartman was right. You're a dirty, sneaky, filthy **JEW**!" Stan screamed running off.

"Whatever, Tweek!" Craig pushed his now ex best friend on the ground. "If you think you can just go running off with any damn kid on the block, then go ahead!" He snarled. "You're gonna come crawling back anyways! Like you always do."

Tweek's eyes widened in anger as he punched Craig Tucker in the face. He breathed heavily, panting as Craig stared up at him, mouth agape. Craig got up and stared him in the eye, fearful.

"_Fuck. Off._" Tweek hissed. This bold move was so un-Tweekish that heads turned. Kyle was ready to jump in if Craig tried beating Tweek up for his action, but much to the opposite, Craig sped off, flipping them all off as he ran.

Kenny stared at his paper wide-eyed. The universe was screwed if he couldn't save Style and Creek. And so was he, say the Fangirls get wind of his screw-up. He had to talk to Craig and Stan. It was the only possible way. Kenny had to use all his chemistry notes (three whole pieces of bubble gum wrappers with little hearts drawn on them) to save the legacy of shipping. Time was running short, Kenny decided. He raced off; he needed to talk to Stan Marsh.

"**MATCHMAKER KENNY, TO THE HALF-ASSED RESCUE!**"


	2. Jewless Forever

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

_Author's Notes:_

_-Just some shitty crack I put toghether. Take nothing seriously._

_-Review, guys! How else will the GREAT and POWERFUL Stan find his way?_

* * *

Stan sat down against the lunchroom doors. This wasn't fair. Kyle had the guts to call HIM (the _great_ and _powerful_) Stan melodramatic? Stan huffed and crossed his arms. He could see it now; Style was going to plummet. And then Creek would take it's place. This was by-far his worst day ever. Who even should care about Craig? He was boring! Stan had charisma. Stan wasn't super-bright but he tried being sweet and make up for it with his trustworthiness and such. Craig was probably gonna dump Tweek's skinny little ass on the pavement.

Out of nowhere at all, Stan heard the loud yell, "_MATCHMAKER KENNY TO THE HALF-ASSED RESCUE_!" Turning his head, he seen Kenny race at him, arms flailing. Kenny plopped down next to him and smiled cheerfully.

"Stanley Marsh!" Kenny said.

"Ken." Stan narrowed his blue eyes.

"I want to know why the Hell you screwed up your perfectly perfect relationship." Kenny said in a tone that meant, 'Like Hell if You're Getting Out Of This'.

Stan fidgeted. "Kyle screwed around with Tweek." He said, as if it should explain everything.

"Come one, Stan! Tweek said it was only one kiss." Kenny nudged him.

"But what if he liked it?" Stan half-whimpered. "What if they were meant to be? _WHAT IF I AM GOING TO BE A JEW-LESS PERSON MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE?!"_ He shrieked, motioning above his head with his arms.

"You aren't going to be Jew-less." Kenny sighed. "Look, I bet he's waiting for you to come back already."

Stan cocked his head so he had a clearer view of the lunchroom. Sitting at the table, Tweek had moved to the side so he was sitting next to Kyle, clutching Kyle's coat tightly. Kyle complied to Tweek, one arm rubbing his hunched back. Stan's eyes widened in horror and he retched, pain filling his chest. "My heart." He began, "Has been thrown off the Grand Canyon." Stan motioned as if he was throwing something.

"Oh. Bad time, I guess." Kenny shrugged nervously.

"Better make another section for 'Kweek', Ken. It's gonna be something while I ROT IN LONELINESS." Stan buried his head in his jeans and sobbed (only the manliest of tears were shed. The girly tears were still held in).

"No!" Kenny said, fear flooding his eyes. "You HAVE to love Kyle! It's the fate of the universe!"

Stan groaned. "Then the fate of the universe was mistaken."

"Forgive and forget?" Kenny asked hopefully.

"No. Kyle can forgive me on his own Jew time. Hell knows he has tons of it to spare while he watches me DIE ALONE." Stan glowered at Kyle.

"You sound like Cartman." Kenny accused darkly.

"No I do not!" Stan whined. "Kyle is a sneaky Jew, and that's that."

"Come on, Stan." Kenny begged. "Can you find it in your Marshy heart to forgive Kyle? Please?" Kenny got on his hands and knees, begging.

"O-okay." Stan agreed.

Kenny jumped in the air, cheerfully grinning. "On one condition." There goes Kenny's moment of happiness.

"What?"

"Kiss me."

"What the- No!"

"Why not!"

"You're after KYLE remember!"

"Yeah but.." Stan turned his head. "I can't forgive him until I droop to his level." He sighed.

Kenny pictured the fangirls, ripping his head off. Or keeping him locked in their basement, Silence of the Lambs style. Or killing him like Ozzy Osborne had. Kenny shivered. There would be no form of Stenny, not if he didn't want to get murdered.

"I can't do that, Stan! Think of the Style!" Kenny pleaded.

"Style my ASS." Stan barked. "If you won't help me, I'll find someone who WILL. And I have just the person in mind." Stan pushed Kenny down, pulling his own self up. "You know, Kenny. I thought you were my friend."

Stan tromped off, not willing to see Kenny's reaction. If Style was going to go down, then he was dragging Creek with it. He walked off, stomping around in search for Craig. After twelve minutes and no such luck, he was about to give up. But that's just what the Jew would WANT, wasn't it? No! He was going to keep looking. Stan bolted forward with lightning speed as he scoured the place. Then he seen it. His stoic diamond in the rock.

Craig Tucker was sitting against the boy's bathroom... _Crying_? Stan was reluctant, but he tentatively walked over to Craig and knelt down. Craig lifted his face out of his arms and scowled, trying to look as threatening as possible with red splotches covering his cheeks and wet tears rolling down his face. Even worse, he had a huge stream of snot going down his nose that he didn't bother to wipe off. Stan awkwardly smiled and pet him with the tips of his fingers.

"What do you WANT Marsh." Craig demanded harshly. "Can't you see I'm wallowing in my own self-pity." Craig huffed and put his head back down, which shortly after emitted a loud sob.

"I want to kiss you." Stan said bluntly.

At this, Craig's cries abruptly stopped and he picked up his head to stare at Stan dumbfounded. He wiped his nose on his sleeve (ewwwww) and looked at Stan with wide eyes. Craig put his hand to Stan's chin and firmly held his jawline. In one fluid movement, Craig slapped the shit out of Stan like a slap-happy gay guy.

"Ow! What the Hell?" Stan barked, rubbing the new red mark on his slightly heavy set face.

"I could say the same. Why would you feel the urge to kiss me? To make Kyle jealous? To throw Creek off the map? Like Kyle said, you shouldn't have to be judged." Craig snapped, getting up and turning away. "You just can't stand being wrong, huh, Marsh." He inquired.

Stan fumed and looked at him. How dare Craig assume HE was wrong! He wasn't wrong and he knew it! He was in the right. Stan realized something in a split second. _He always had to be right. _

"I just need to stoop down to Kyle's level." Stan pleaded. "It won't mean anything, I promise."

"You're serious about this." Craig demanded.

Stan nodded slowly, standing up and walking towards Craig so that they were face to face.

Craig huffed and stared Stan in the eye. His face was pale as ever and there was only the slightest hint that he was, or ever was crying. He placed a shaking hand on Stan's shoulder and threw his head forward, effectively shocking Stan out of his wits. The contact was short, but Craig didn't mind. Stan was thrown to a locker, stunned.

Oh, Craig told me to flip off any of you who thought he would've put his lips to Stan Marsh's. No, Craig sure didn't kiss Stan. He did manage to give the poor kid one Hell of a headbutt, though.

"You know, Marsh." Craig hissed angrily. "THIS is what I hate about you. The fact that no matter what, you are always the rarity of the world, while I'm always a piece of coal." He glared at Stan angrily.

"Dude, to many metaphors. Do you drive Tweek crazy with those?" Stan asked genuinely, eyebrows raised.

"The metaphors are from years of listening to MCR, so shut the Hell up." Craig snipped.

"MCR? What's that?" Stan placed a finger to his chin in thought. "My Canine Rex? My Crack Reeks?"

"Goddammit, Stan! Stop changing the subject!" Craig yelled.

"Maybe I can be a big asshole, but at least I feel regret! I screw up so many times, that I know what it's like to be WRONG, Marsh. I doubt you can say the same." Craig adjusted his hat and crossed his arms.

"I- I can!" Stan retorted.

"Fine! Tell me one time in your relationship with Kyle that you were wrong." Craig shot back.

"I- er- well at least I'm not an asshole! No wonder Tweek hates you!" Stan screamed.

"That's EXACTLY what I meant. You know, Stan, maybe YOU are the asshole sometimes?" Craig entertained briskly.

"I am not an asshole!" Stan screamed as Craig flipped him off and walked to the cafeteria. "I need to make things FAIR!"

"Fine." Craig said. "You make things '_fair_'. And while you're off doing that, I'll be making things '_right_'." He tromped off down the hall veering into the lunchroom.

Stan grumbled to himself. Who needed Craig? Stan was going to find someone else to help him even the odds.

Meanwhile, Craig trotted off towards the lunchroom. He knew he'd been wrong. He told Tweek some god-awful things, and he felt low. So low, in fact, that he didn't mind Stan seeing him cry. He just hoped Tweek would see that he was sorry. Craig walked in the room and stopped.

Right in front of him, Kyle and Tweek were pressed close to each other. Kyle's arm was wrapped around Tweek's thin shoulders. Tweek clutched Kyle's shirt like it was his lifeline. Instantly, Craig fumed. How come Tweek and him never had public displays of affection? Was Tweek not okay with people knowing they were something? Was Tweek... ashamed of him?

Craig walked over to the table and snarled, his face drawn into an ugly form. His lip was pulled up to show his teeth.

"I hope you're happy." He said honestly before walking away.

Things popped into Craig's mind. Maybe they never had public affection because HE was ashamed of Tweek. Maybe he was all to blame. Craig skipped school, trudging off to go wallow in... Whatever losers like himself deserved to wallow in.

You know you've hit an all-time-low when you don't even know what you wallow in.

... Wallow... That's a funny word right there. Wah-low... Yeah...

Good god. Craig was _losing it. _


	3. Facebook News

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

_Author's Notes:_

_-So so sorry. This isn't my best. But I had writers block and I just needed to write something so... You get the third installment of crackariffic crack._

_-This is my semi final chapter, so... _

_-Review, for without them, how will Craig come up with more smart-ass comments?_

* * *

Craig huddled in his room, coughing. For some odd reason, he was inexplicably sick. Sweat rolled down his pale forehead, barley stagnated by the cool rag on his face. Actually, the rag was getting warm now.

Warm... Tweek was warm. Like when Tweek hugged Craig while they were watching horror movies that Craig had picked out for that reason alone. Like when Tweek would nuzzle up next to Craig like a kicked puppy and fall asleep.

Who was the kicked puppy now?

Craig groaned, sitting up and allowing himself to be free of the stifling heated blankets. Using the bed as support, he crawled over to his computer desk and went on Facebook. Opening the homepage and signing in, Craig loaded his annoyingly slow Internet. Stories filled his screen on how, of all things, Stan Marsh tried kissing people.

**Token Black**: Marsh just tried kissing me. What. The. Fuck.

**Clyde Donovan**: Not fair! That spot is reserved, thank you.

**Kenny McCormick**: Guys! We need to repair Style! I already got a death threat!

**Kevin Stoley:** Did Stan seem like a desperate Anakin Skywalker to anyone else? Jesus, he's a charity case.

**Eric Cartman:** Goddammit Kevin.

**Damien Thorne**: I am point-five seconds away from setting Stan Marsh on fire. He nearly fucked up my relationship with Christophe. I mean, he tried kissing me in the middle of the hallway!

**Christophe DeLorn**e: Same. No hard feelings?

**Damien Thorne: **Guess not.

**Wendy Testaburger:** I think Stan Marsh tried to kiss me, but he just puked all over my new shirt instead.

**BeBe Stevens**: Stan is really desperate, huh?

**Pip Pirrup**: Chaps, I do believe Stanly Marsh is under the delusion that I am gay? Would anyone care to explain this?

**Damien Thorn**: You dress in slacks and sweater vests.

**Christophe DeLorne:** You have hair that goes down to you neck.

**Damien Thorne**: You speak like a girl.

**Christophe DeLorne**: You sway your hips while you walk.

**Damien Thorn**: ... We're going to have a LONG talk, Christophe.

**Tweek Tweak**: AGH! STAN TRIED EATING ME! HE'S A CANNIBAL, ISN'T HE?! I CAN'T TURN OFF THE CAPS LOCK, HELP ANYONE?

Craig's nostrils flared and he smashed on his keyboard. His fingers slid over the letters with ease.

**Craig Tucker: **You didn't kiss him, did you.

Craig sighed. Even when he typed he didn't seem to put in question marks or exclamation points. Just regular, boring periods. After not long, Tweek replied to his message.

**Tweek Tweak**: NO, MAN! WHO DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?!

**Craig Tucker**: Turn off your damned caps lock; it's pissing me off.

**Tweek Tweak**: I CAN'T! SORRY!

**Craig Tucker:** Have you tried pressing that little button by the 'A' key.

**Tweek Tweak**: WELL, NO. THE KEY COVER FELL OFF A FEW WEEKS AGO AND I COULDN'T TELL WHAT THAT WAS.

**Craig Tucker**: Dumbass. Is that why your report on The Cold War was in all capital letters.

**Tweek Tweak**: YES... Oh, I got it. This would've been good information three days ago.

**Craig Tucker:** Whatever, Tweek. Have you and Kyle been sucking face yet.

**Tweek Tweak**: WHAT?! NO!

**Craig Tucker:** I thought I told you to shut off your goddamn caps lock.

**Tweek Tweak**: I did! That was all on the 'shift' key.

**Craig Tucker**: Oh.

Craig shut off his computer, feeling slightly better. Tweek was still his. He sat back on his bed, lying down. His heart felt as fluttery as it was when he had confessed to Tweek that he MIGHT have been harboring feeling for him. He might have to restart from his screwup, but Tweek would hopefully understand.

A knock at his door snapped him out of his dream, and he picked up his head. The sound of someone walking through the front door and kicking off their shoes was heard, before the person trampled up the stairs. Midway up, Craig assumed, the person fell, expressing his disdain with a loud "ARG".

Craig suddenly felt much better, for some off reason. He lazily tilted his head to the door. The person he now recognized as Tweek Tweak walked in.

"H-hi Craig." Tweek said nervously.

"Tweek." Craig acknowledged.

Tweek pulled over Craig's computer chair and plopped down in it. His thin fingers lightly brushed over Craig's cheek, where a new bruise was.

"I-I'm so s-sorry." Tweek said softly.

"For what, my little Tweekers?" Craig asked with an edge of amusement in his nasally voice.

"I p-punched you i-in the f-face. Or d-did you forget?" Tweek asked sarcastically.

"Oh that? It was my fault anyways." Craig muttered. "I shouldn't have been such an asshole, you know?"

"You w-weren't an asshole." Tweek reassured him.

Craig thought for a moment and shrugged. "You're right; I wasn't an asshole, I was the whole damn ass."

Tweek smirked. "Come on, n-now, C-Craig. You barely have an a-ass as it is. Aren't w-we exaggerating JUST a b-bit?"

Craig grinned and adjusted under his covers so that his butt was facing Tweek. He wiggled it in his best friend's face. If any of his friends saw him right now... Tweek giggled (in a totally manly way) and sighed.

"Okay, okay." He sighed. "You have a big ass."

Craig grinned and replaced his butt to the bed. His expression got darker and he looked at Tweek nervously. "So did you actually kiss Broflovski?" He pressed.

"O-once." Tweek admitted. "Kyle w-was in a fight with S-Stan because he wouldn't d-drop Wendy. I was so l-lonely at that t-time, I w-would've taken anyone, so w-when Ky asked, I c-complied. It didn't mean anything, though. Just me being d-desperate a-and pathetic." Tweek explained dully, avoiding Craig's eyes.

Craig thoughtfully put his middle finger to his chin, contemplating this. So Stan had been wrong the whole time. He was the cause of this. Kyle was innocent. An idea sprouted into his head and he hopped up with a new energy. Craig threw on his jacket and hat and beckoned for Tweek to follow.

"W-where are w-we going?" Tweek asked tentatively.

"We're going to save Style."


	4. The Half Assed End and Jew Glue

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

_Author's Notes:_

_-I never actually intended to make a story out of this. It was originally supposed to just be a one-shot about who had the best first kiss. Goddammit._

_-Review, and get an imaginary bottle of Jew-Glue_.

* * *

Stan sighed. All day and not ONE person qso much as let him hug them. He was the GREAT Stan Marsh, captain of the football team. Had everyone forgotten that? He checked Facebook, and it wasn't pretty. Stan scowled at his phone as notifications barreled into it. That Jew rat probably convinced everyone that Stan had a disease or something. It would be just like that kosher-breathed Jesus killer.

"Stann..." A voice called softly.

"Yes?" Stan brightened and whipped around. Kenny stood in front of him, his hood pulled around his face. "So, have you finally come around Kenneth?"

"Erm- yeah. Totally." Kenny muttered awkwardly.

"Sweet! Kosher-breath is sooo gonna pay!" Stan smirked.

"_What_?!" Kenny growled. His voice pitched higher and nearly squeaked.

Stan's eyes widened and he snatched Kenny's hood, unmasking him. In front of him, in the flesh and blood, was him. Kosher breath. Jesus killer. Jew. Daywalker.

"Kyle?" Stan screamed.

"Stan." Kyle replied bluntly.

"TRAITOR! TRAITOR!" Stan screamed loudly, flailing his arms around.

"Oh, so I'm the traitor now? You tried kissing every kid at school." Kyle pointed out bluntly.

"It was for a good reason." Stan whined pitifully, like some kindergartner.

Kyle sighed. "Sure." He muttered.

"I am NOT the bad guy here." Stan barked.

"Just to let you know, this whole getting-us-back-together thing?" Kyle snipped, his eyes flashing darkly. "It was Craig's idea."

"Craig?" Stan asked, flabbergasted. "As in, Craig the asshole Tucker?"

"He won't admit it." Kyle sighed. "Too much of an asshole to take credit for being nice. He has a reputation, you know?"

Stan smirked, but then he remembered that he was in the presence of a KOSHER-BREATH CHEATER. He scowled.

"Why should I believe you?" Stan asked indignantly.

"Because that's what boyfriends do, and so far you've been a horrible one." A voice echoed from the hall.

Stan twisted his head, only to see Craig Tucker, mindlessly flipping him off and Tweek under one of his arms. Craig stumbled forward and smacked Stan in the jaw. Those lessons from Mr. Gueermo were really in effect now...

"Ow! Goddamn, you!" Stan hissed.

"Now." Craig smirked. "I hate you. And I hate you even more." He respectively pointed to Kyle and Stan. "But if I'm going to have to deal with Stan trying to make out with me or GOD FORBID my Tweekers, then I have to fix you two."

Craig cupped his hands and put them both on the back of the two bickering teen's heads. In a split second, he smashed their faces together with expert precision. Kyle and Stan's lips connected harshly, and Craig grinned wickedly. "Now kiss and make up!" He commanded.

Holding them together so that they wouldn't push away, Craig turned to his jittery boyfriend. "Wanna see a magic trick." He proposed.

"Um- yes?" Tweek fretted.

"And... There! Stuck like Jew-glue." Craig pulled his hands away and just as he said, Stan and Kyle were indeed stuck like glue.

Stan and Kyle pulled back, looking into each other's eyes like the lovesick saps they just happened to be.

"Ky..." Stan muttered. "I'm so sorry. I was a screwup as a boyfriend."

"You're not a just a screwup." Kyle murmured back. "You're my screwup, and your the best screwup ever."

In the background, Craig made the gag motion.

"I love you, Kyle Broflovski." Stan managed, hugging his boyfriend. "And this will never happen again."

"Okay. I trust you, Stan. And I love you too." Kyle said back.

"The unicorns." Craig gagged dramatically, holding his stomach. "Think of the unicorns you're killing with all that public affection."

"Screw the unicorns, asshole." Stan barked.

He and Kyle cheerfully held hands, just as Kenny burst into the room with a bag of God knows what.

"I CAN SAVE STYLE!" He shouted loudly.

"Already saved, thanks to mister asshole." Kyle grinned. Craig flipped him off.

"GODDAMMIT!" Kenny screamed. "Wait, why the hell do you have my clothes on?"

"Just part of the plan, Ken." Stan said happily.

Stan and Kyle walked off, gleaming in the sunset. (Because god knows if the GREAT and AMAZING HOTNESS of Stan Marsh would end a story without a romantic walk into the sunset...) Kenny grinned and raced off to the library.

Craig and Tweek just sort of stood there, and after a short period of time, Craig spoke up.

"You wanna know what's funny." He asked, his nasally voice drowning out the question in his tone.

"W-what?" Tweek twitched.

"They do this every week."

**THE** (half-assed) **END**


End file.
